Chips Are Falling
by Sueg5123
Summary: Mackenzie and Will in the immediate aftermath of 2X09.
1. Chapter 1

**Chips Are Falling**

They reached the door to her flat.

"—And you're home."

"Come in?"

Will shook his head. "Mac, you've been operating on all cylinders for weeks. You need some rest. And if I come in— you won't get it. _Because I will want to make love to you_." He gave a slight smile. "My honesty is undermining my baser desires."

She pushed the door open and took his hand.

He had never been in Mac's flat and he looked around with curiosity while she dropped her coat on a chair and turned to close and lock the door behind them. Nice view of Times Square. Comfortable clutter, books, papers. His eyes roved the dimly lit room and he saw a small framed photograph on a table next to the television, singular because it seemed to be the only piece of truly personal memorabilia in the room. He picked it up.

"Actually—" she began, "if I'd ever conceived the possibility of you coming by, I would have moved it. I wouldn't want to appear – maudlin."

He replaced the frame on the table. "I don't think it's maudlin." Then he reached for her hand. "Mac, really - it's been a long night. Nothing's going to change between us overnight, so why don't you let me kiss you goodnight and I'll call you in the morning. "

"Oh, no, Billy. I can't let you go. I'll be a terrible lover tonight, a horrid blend of desire and exhaustion, I'm afraid. But I really have to be with you. "

Abandoning any further feigned resistance, Will closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers.

xxxx

The lovemaking was quiet but hurried, compromised by their mutual exhaustion and the need to prove this was no mere truce but the instrument of surrender for them both. Will had always been a considerate partner, but his attentions this night were largely in the service of his own desire, as if he sought to tame something wild and recently discovered within himself. When, finally, he gave her a lasting, gentle kiss and made to roll off her, she clutched at him.

"Please – just stay like this a few moments longer."

"I thought it might be getting uncomfortable—"

"You make me feel protected."

He dipped his head back into her neck and trailed soft kisses around the hollow of her throat. "Mackenzie," he murmured, "you've got protection, now – you've got a damned body man for the rest of your life –" He sighed. "But my knee and elbow are reaching their limits…"

"Oh, God! I'm sorry, I forgot!"

He fell into his pillow and pulled her to his side, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. "Maybe you'll still feel protected this way?"

She nodded.

"Everything's going to be okay, Mac," he said, meaning _Genoa, Dantana's lawsuit_, _News Night_ –

_Us_.

"I want to believe that."

"You should. We're going to be okay, so everything else will be okay, too."

"I feel as though I've been in free fall for months – maybe years," she whispered. "Spinning in the air, nothing solid beneath me."

"The fall has stopped, Kenz. I've got you. " He shifted closer and kissed her hair.

xxxx

Mackenzie woke first, a guilty hostage to natural circadian rhythms. It was morning, but still early, and the room was filled with the diffused light of the city's concrete-and-steel canyon. She lay there watching Will's chest rise and fall, thinking about all the breaths in a day – in a life.

_In three missing years. _

Well, the years themselves weren't missing. But they were like books with empty pages.

"Will?" she whispered, lightly touching his hair with her fingers. "Will?"

He opened a single eye. "Go back to sleep."

She laughed and it was music for him to hear. With an irresistible sleepy smile, he pulled her over to him. After a comfortable period of drowsing and languorous touching, she noticed the time and pushed up on one elbow.

"We've missed the first pitch."

"We're going to miss all the pitches for the next few days. I asked Charlie for the rest of the week. He's bringing Terry Smith up from Washington." He frowned. "I thought he'd bring Jane, but he insisted on Terry."

She gave a wry smile. "Damage control on Charlie's part. Jane would just finish what Dantana started, bringing ACN to its knees." Then she remembered. ""What am I doing, thinking about meetings? I was fired last night."

"You are _so_ _not_ fired—"

They lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"We need some time. We need to figure out what we're doing next."

"Are we hiding?" she asked, alluding to the embarrassing allegations contained in Dantana's petition, due to be filed that morning.

"Not hiding," he said after a few moments reflection. He rubbed his jaw. "It's hard for me to hide. Mine is the face on the billboard, on the side of the bus, in the glossy advert in the magazine at the checkout. This isn't what I signed up for, but it's part of the package." He sighed. "What I hate is that the rest of you are going to be pulled into this whirlpool with me. Elliott and Sloan – and they're still on-air this week. You and Jim, Maggie, Don – you probably have a few days of anonymity left, until the weeklies hit the newsstands on Friday. Then watch out for the paps on your doorstep."

xxxx

"Coffee?" she greeted him as he came into the kitchen, smelling of soap, barefoot and wearing only jeans.

"Yeah, thanks." He took the mug from her. "We won't be in the papers yet," he said, gesturing to the _Times_ and _Daily News_ on the kitchen counter. "Maybe the afternoon editions."

"Well, I'll take my shower now," she said.

He grabbed his phone. "I'm gonna make some calls. Check in with Charlie. Need to cancel my appointment with Dr. Habib. Ask Scott to send someone over with some… _clothes_ for me."

When she returned, he was using a knife to fish a bagel out of the toaster.

"Is that safe?"

"Just another of my talents. Toaster repair. Pettyfogger. The face and voice of the now-disgraced ACN News." He plated several bagels and put the jam and cream cheese on the counter.

"Did you reach Charlie?"

"I'll have to try again later. Millie said he's in a high level conference with Leona and Rebecca." He crossed his arms. "Hey, I've made some unilateral decisions, but they affect you, so we need to talk about them."

She put her mug down, unsure what to expect. "Go on."

"Mac, somebody said it in a movie, but once you've figured out who you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want to start the rest of your life immediately. That's me right now. I don't want to start a day without you near me. So, I want you to pack a bag and move in with me for the rest of the week. We'll figure out where we're going to live long term, but I need you with me right now. Every night, every morning."

She leaned against the kitchen counter and tilted her head with an expression of incredulity.

"Second, I want to marry you right away. I don't know what you want, you're going to have to tell me. Maybe you want a big affair, flowers and dresses and all that stuff – and we can do that, too, later, if you want. But I want to marry you right now, no waiting. Tomorrow, this week. Whenever we can make this happen.

"Third." He stepped toward her, his gaze steady. "I want to take you back to bed. I didn't do right by you last night." This last was offered with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "Mackenzie?" he said, noting her look of surprise. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"A little cognitive dissonance. We've gone from glacial melt to the speed of light in the space of one day." She moved to place her hand on his. "Everything you said is fine by me. I am relentlessly… shamelessly… _helplessly_ in love with you, Will."

They kissed, with none of the tentativeness or self-consciousness of the night before. Her passion was fueled by the hunger of years of desire, the denial of that desire, and, somewhere, gratitude for a second chance. It felt so good, to be able to show him how much she loved him still, how much she had always loved him, how much she wanted to please him…

He grabbed her hands and tugged her back down the hall.

"Enjoy it now," he said with wry amusement. "Enjoy it while it's still illicit. You'll think it's a chore once we're married."

"Not on your life," she breathed.

They rolled on the bed, kissing and tugging off their clothes. He pulled her on top of him and they sought once-familiar rhythms. He spent minutes exploring her breasts with his eyes and fingers, cupping the contours, stroking her skin, watching her face for reaction. Then his hands slid slowly down her shoulders to her forearms, fanning over her hips and brushing back the sheet she had gathered around her waist. "What-?" His left hand found the purple pucker of a long scar across her stomach and right flank. "Aw, Jeeze—" he muttered, finally comprehending. His expression was full of grief.

Mackenzie had momentarily forgotten, had allowed herself to become untethered to the memory of the scar and how it could betray her. She hurried to press his hand flat against the seam in her flesh. "Don't look at that, Billy. We're not going to talk about this now." She took his hands in hers. "Please?"

He nodded and said nothing more about it, because that was what she wanted. He even managed a half-smile to defuse the moment. "You're beautiful, Mackenzie," he murmured reassuringly.

_And strong…_

Mackenzie 2.0_. Then and now._

He found he was making the comparison in his mind. She had lost the girlish air, gained a personal gravitas. She moved with a more deliberate grace now. Her brown eyes had the same flash and sparkle as before, but also seemed to hold a new reticence. She seemed sadder, more vulnerable.

And yet, still s_o beautiful…_

"Let me know when you're close—" he whispered, and when, minutes later, her eyes told him she was, he laced their fingers together. "I love you, Mackenzie." She uttered a small gasp, followed by a long sigh, and he squeezed her hands and hurried to catch up.

xxxx

Later, his fingers kept tracing the pucker of the scar. Finally, she stilled them and clung to his hand on her belly.

"Reason says I should have died," she said quietly, looking at the ceiling. "I don't think I particularly tried to stay alive. Jim was the one who fought for me – sometimes, he fought _with_ me in order to make me fight."

Will said nothing, his head propped on his other hand, watching her as she explained.

"I didn't go looking for injury but when it happened, I was at peace with it. It just seemed like something else I had miscalculated, other consequences I had failed to consider."

_Like knives. And confessions. Sharp, deep, gliding in quickly and doing their worst damage on the exit._

She closed her eyes and the lashes seemed especially stark on her pale skin. "Military medicine being what it is, I have a lovely scar." She hesitated. "I don't mean that harshly. They saved my life, so I'm grateful. They just didn't have time to put the pieces back the same way. Should I see a plastic surgeon?"

"Does it make you self-conscious? When people see it?"

"Will, until today, no one has seen it. _No one_. You know I'm not one for beaches so I haven't been wearing a bikini and exposing my midriff." She paused. "If it upsets you – if you find it ugly or disturbing, I'll see someone about… _minimizing_ it."

"_Disturbing_," he repeated. _Yes, that kind of proximity to death is bound to be disturbing._ _A scar is a real, visceral reminder_. "It is—I mean, I do find it _disturbing_, but only because it symbolizes how nearly I lost you. " He stroked her hair and stayed silent for minutes before he spoke again. "Keep the scar," he said. "It's a fucking medal. Your medal. You endured, you survived, you prevailed. But it's important, so don't take it away or minimize it in any way."

A few minutes after 3pm, the buzzer rang.

"That will be Scott's assistant, bringing me a clean shirt." Will skinnied into his jeans and went to catch the door, calling over his shoulder, "Pack a bag, Mac. We're shifting to my place."

She showered and changed, grabbing at essential hair products and toiletries and tossing them in the bag. She threw in casual clothes and something slightly nicer, in case she had to wear it to work on Monday.

Will came back in the room sporting a ball cap and sunglasses with a tag still dangling. "Evidently, Scott seemed to think I needed a disguise, too." He took them off, pulling at the tag on the glasses. "It's actually a good idea. Might want to tone down the recognition factor for the next few days." He pulled the new dark blue T-shirt over his head and stood before the mirror, eyeing his profile. "Maybe a mustache—"

"Maybe not!"

"Text from Charlie." Will held up his phone.

"What does he say?"

"_Under siege here. Your troops performing magnificently. Even Reese has astonished us. Now take her back to bed_."

"_Charlie_ wrote that?"

"Guess my intentions were transparent." He shrugged. "Hurry up. We've got to get going."

At the curb, a familiar figure opened the back door of the black Escalade.

"Surprise," Will said.

"Lonny!" She gave him a quick hug before pulling back with a frown. "Does this mean Jerry fucking Dantana has put out a hit for us?"

Lonny gave a short laugh. "I guess Mrs. Lansing wanted to make sure the paparazzi didn't muss McAvoy's hair or anything. So I'm back on this assignment until things settle down a bit." He closed the door behind them and ran around to the driver's side.

Mac still wasn't sure if this development was something to worry about.

"I thought we'd have a better shot at keeping this low-key if we went to one of the boroughs," Lonny began.

"Good idea, Make it the easiest, traffic-wise."

Mac looked confused at their exchange. "Where are we going?"

"We have to show up in person to apply for the license. Then, there's a 24 hour cooling off period. In case you come to your senses and all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chips Are Falling, Ch. 2**

**A/N**_: Sorry this has taken a while. I am racing to finish before Season 3 starts and the story is OBE, but my Inner Hemingway was mugged by my Inner Faulkner and this is the messy result._

Getting the license had been a snap, no waiting, and, mercifully, no press. Proof of identity and cash to the City Clerk and they were back in the black Escalade.

"Lonny, on the way back, I need to swing by the office for my laptop."

Lonny's eyes shot up into the rear view mirror and he exhaled sharply. "You do know that this is broad daylight? And you want to go right to the curb of the AWM building? Think anyone with two brain cells to rub together can't figure out to hang around and wait for you to appear?"

"I thought you'd take us to the garage—"

"If it's open. They stop entries at 5pm, you know."

Fortunately, the garage entry was still attended and Lonny was able to deposit Will at the closest bank of elevators.

"I'll only be a few minutes. Did you want to come up?"

Mac shook her head. "No, not right now. I want things to settle a bit. But, Will—hurry."

On floor 23, Will moved quickly to his office, hoping not to be intercepted and delayed. Across the room, he saw Charlie, Jim, and Keefer talking across the bullpen and—_too late_—Charlie looked up in time to see him.

Will grabbed his computer and shoved it into its bag, winding the power cord around his hand and shoving that in, too. He reached for a stack of folders.

"You're back," Charlie grinned. Jim followed him into Will's office.

"No, I'm _not_ back. Just needed to pick this up. I'm off until Monday, remember?"

"Actually, I need to talk to you about that." Charlie looked around Will's bookcase and credenza. "You got any glasses around here?" He opened the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of scotch.

"Charlie, I don't have time for—"

"Sure you do." Charlie improvised with two ACN mugs and the only glass tumbler he could find and poured three drinks. When Jim shook his head, Charlie barked, "Don't be such a candy-ass, Jim."

Jim accepted the glass and held it awkwardly.

Will sighed and put down the bag and papers he had gathered. "Seriously, Charlie, people are waiting on me."

"Pretty bold of you to come here today. Right into the crosshairs, as it were."

"Problems today?"

"Security's been a big concern. Reese tripled the uniforms in the lobby but we've still had two breaches. Just shouters, nothing dangerous. So far." Charlie swirled his mug. "You're being careful?"

"Yeah, Lonny's back. He's taking good care of us." Will thought he saw Jim's eyes flash at '_us_.' "You doing okay, Charlie? You look tired."

"I'm fine. Have your drink." He paused. "Will, I'm sorry, but I'm rescinding your time off this week. We need you back on air as soon as possible."

"Charlie—"

"You can have tonight. We need you back tomorrow night."

"No, Charlie. Absolutely not. I've made—plans for tomorrow. Compromise? Friday night?"

Charlie thought, then slowly nodded. "Yes, well, not soon enough for me. Leona's offered herself up to Scott Pelley at _60 Minutes_ for the full hour this Sunday night. Reese and I are taping a segment for _Meet the Press_ on Friday afternoon. We need you out there, too. Full court press on the charm offensive. Plus—" he sighed, "there's rebellion in the ranks. Terry Smith couldn't leave D.C., and Jane is fomenting hate and discontent. The control room has virtually gone on strike without Mac: Herb has asked to retire and Joey's given notice; it was all Jim could do this afternoon to keep them in their seats for the show tonight."

"Why the problem in control?" Will frowned. "Everyone seemed jolly enough last night."

Charlie snorted. "Three magnums of champagne might have had something to do with the jolliness quotient. But there's a rumor running around—" He arched an eyebrow and paused.

Jim set his glass on Will's desk, untouched. He glanced at the wall clock then back to Will. "I don't have a lot of time right now, so I've got to cut right to the chase. Mac's professional self-esteem cratered about a month ago, in case you hadn't noticed, and I think she's been running solely on determination ever since. So, I've gotta ask if you're really going to be there to support her, or if you're just waiting to pile on…"

"Hey, you're out of line," Will shot back.

"No, let me finish. This _isn't_ soundproof glass, you know. Somebody heard something last night—Tess heard you fire Mac—"

"That was – that was so never gonna happen. We argued, I was angry, I said something I didn't mean. She is _definitely_ not fired."

Jim moved closer to confront Will, and Charlie stepped between them.

"Wait, Charlie," Will said, then looked to Jim. "Go ahead, get it all out."

"Tess told me this morning. It sounded like you were throwing her under the bus. Firing—then, proposal. What the hell is going on? I just gotta ask, are you finally for real? Because this time, it's really going to kill her if you aren't. I haven't seen much out of you over the last couple of years, certainly nothing to warrant whatever she's believed about you."

Will closed his eyes and fought back the words that sprang to his lips. He exhaled. "I am not going to argue with you, _Scoo_—Jim. But things have changed."

"I hope so, Will. Because, like I said, things don't seem _changed_. Things seem like usual, this sadistic emotional kabuki theatre that the two of you do."

oooo

Lonny braked in traffic. "That your fan club?" he said, nodding at a knot of gypsy photographers milling in front of 2 Hudson.

In the backseat, in unison, Will and Mac slid on their sunglasses.

The bodyguard whipped the wheel of the Escalade and they went down the garage ramp, leaving the daylight of street level behind them.

"I didn't think—" Mac began, then stopped. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say. "Is this part of Dantana's lawyers' plan? Intimidation?"

"Sure. Intimidation. Humiliation. Personal and professional. Anything they can lay on us to amp up the stress level. But the real plan is winning through attrition."

"So, we—ACN, Leona, everyone—we just wait Dantana out?"

"Yeah. Lawyer up. And outspend him. His attorneys have taken the case on the speculation that there will be a big payday eventually. They'll try to make us so uncomfortable that we'll be begging to settle. The first thing they're going to want to do is try us in the court of public opinion. It will be easier for them to portray us as buffoons than to actually prove institutional failure. In this kind of litigation, the deepest pockets will win. It'll be a mud-fest in the interim, but if we can stand it, and if Leona keeps spending, we'll outlast him."

Lonny opened the door for them. "McAvoy, no unscheduled trips outside your apartment tonight, you understand? I need to talk to my boss, see if we ought to add another man for nights."

Will shook his head dismissively. "They just want pictures."

"Maybe that's all. Maybe they just want to invade your privacy. Maybe not."

"Have there been threats?" Mac asked, suddenly attuned to the conversation. "Is Will being hunted?"

"Well, something spooked the insurance people into reassigning me…"

"They scare easily," Will countered.

"Just do what I'm saying," Lonny urged. "Remember, hit #5 on your phone if you need me."

"We will," Mac said, grabbing Will's arm. "Thanks, Lonny."

oooo

Once inside the apartment, Will seemed positively ebullient. He lit the gas fireplace, then opened a bottle of white Bordeaux and poured two glasses. "We have groceries. How about fish and a salad?"

"Maybe in an hour or two. The wine is good for now." Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. "Did Charlie or Reese tell you there were new threats?"

"There are always new threats. Sampat's probably been chumming the water again." He shrugged. "It's okay. Dantana is the only real threat on the horizon, and Rebecca is hopeful. Everything's going to be fine. It'll be an uphill trudge to get the viewers back, but cream always rises to the top and so will we."

She sighed and moved to the windows overlooking the front of the building. "Still, it's unsettling to think someone might be out there, waiting."

He came over and took her hands. "Mac, you need to live on something more than air and anxiety. You need a few solid meals. Some hope. " The corner of his mouth hitched up. "Let Lonny worry about the outside stuff. Let me worry about you."

"You're going to worry about me," she repeated. "Why?"

"Because I love you. Because—well, because you need to be cherished. I'm a little late, but I got here eventually," he added sheepishly.

Will's Blackberry chirped and he reached for it. His eyebrows went up. "Text from Nina Howard. _A friendly word of advice, go to a different clerk's office tomorrow. You were recognized at the Office of the City Clerk and the paps will be there tomorrow._" He looked to her. "Mac?"

She had moved away from him, looking out the window to the lights of the cityscape.

"I think—I think she's trying to be helpful. In her way." He swallowed, suddenly aware that he was stumbling into a mine field of his own making. "Mackenzie?"

She kept her gaze trained outside. "I really didn't want to hear that name," she sighed. "Especially from you." She pulled her knuckles to her mouth in a gesture of worry. "And, what, I'm supposed to feel grateful that she's trying to tip us off? I hate that Nina thinks she can stage manage my life."

"I'm sorry I said anything. Forget it." Will pressed a button on his phone. "Deleted."

"You aren't going to text her back?"

He came over to stand behind her. "Nah."

"And we're going to a different clerk's office tomorrow?"

"No. Same one."

"But there will be cameras—people—"

"There will always be cameras and people. I mean, what's to stop Sally-the-Paralegal from snapping us with her iPhone?" He pressed close, moving his arms around her.

She twisted away from him, and he stood with his arms hanging at his sides, a frown beginning to crease his face.

"What's wrong?"

"You don't have to go through with this, you know. I appreciate the mercy fuck, but - pity will not sustain a relationship."

"Pity? Mac, I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

_The damage I have done._

He planted himself in front of her. "And—_'Mercy fuck'_? Where did _that_ come from?"

She gave a short bitter laugh. "It hasn't even been 24 hours and we're back to the same cycle—

"You are doing this to yourself now, Mackenzie. I haven't done a thing—"

"Well, you've done Nina." There. It was out.

"Mac, look at me. I'm sorry Nina sent the text. I'm sorry I _told_ you she sent the text. And I'm—well, I'm sorry about Nina. You know, all of it. But I'm not understanding what's happening right now. Come over here, talk to me," he implored, pulling her to the couch. "Talk to me. Tell me where these words are coming from. "

She let him hold her hand but still wouldn't meet his eyes. "You can't propose simply because you feel sorry for me, for us, for something that used to be. I said yes and I've been gliding along with it, allowing it to fill the vaccum that my fantasies once occupied—but this is too important. And this is survival for me now, Will. I simply will not survive another—" she gestured, "whatever. I don't even have a word for whatever it is that we do."

"_Sadistic emotional kabuki_."

At this, she finally met his gaze. "Seriously?"

"That's what Jim called it today. Er… he and I had a little dust-up when I dropped by the office." Will sighed and pushed back into the couch, bringing her with him. "Full disclosure, Mackenzie. Jim was pissed at me because someone heard me fire you last night and he wanted to know if I'm just screwing with your head. Again." He paused. "Maybe you're thinking that, too?"

"Will—"

"Let me—please, let me go first." He waited for her nod of acquiescence. "You aren't certain what transpired between our messy moment in the Hair and Make-up Room and when I ran to find you in the studio. You're looking for what triggered my light-bulb moment."

"There had to have been something, Will. The way we left things earlier—we had two devastating arguments. I was physically reeling after the last one."

"I know. I could see it. I felt awful. Mac, I'm getting tangled in my words, but bear with me. I'm not sure there was a light bulb moment. The light had always been on. You were _always_ all I thought about. I tried to convince myself that I didn't care, I tried to act that part. Taunting you about the ring—that was just another way for me to deny to myself that I loved you—"

"—with the side benefit of hurting me."

"Yeah." He swallowed guiltily. "I have a lot to atone for. I can't fault you, or Jim, or anybody else, for wondering. But you must concede that I've never been indifferent to you. I have always been obsessed with you.

"You know, Charlie came into my office last night during one of the breaks and launched into this long diatribe about resignations or something. I hardly heard a word of it. I just kept seeing your face, the way you left me, and realizing that I'd finally done something so horrible that you had blinked, metaphorically speaking, and knowing that I was on the brink of irrevocability. I was beginning to do things I would never be able to walk back, no matter how much I might want to. And somewhere in the back of my mind I had taken for granted the inevitability of us, that time was just ticking away until we could find our way back to one another, until we could discharge enough venom to make us viable again. But discharging venom is never ending, because more poison is always being manufactured. I had to stop lying to myself, I had to stop lying to you—because you believed me, and I was beginning to.

"When did my hurt morph into something unrecognizable and cruel? Jim used that word to me today, sadistic. _Taking pleasure in someone else's torment_…"

"Jim gets carried away," she began.

"He used the right word today, but I knew it there in my office last night, with Charlie blathering on in front of me."

"You aren't sadistic, Will. Don't say that. It isn't true."

"It might be true." He was quiet for a few moments.

"Do you know what tempering is? They take steel and expose it to extremes of hot and cold, to make it stronger. Haven't we finally tempered ourselves, Kenz? Can't we now withstand just about anything because we've already had the extremes? I've squandered so much time, I've been without you for years, and they've been barren, miserable years. I don't want to go back to that existence, I don't want to be that man anymore. Please, don't make me go back to that."

He twined his fingers through hers before continuing softly. "If I'm going too fast, if you need more time to think-_if you've changed your mind_—tell me. Please, Mackenzie, just tell me what you're thinking, because I'm about to stop talking and I'm really afraid of what's going to come next."

"Will, I've worn my heart on my sleeve for years, where you're concerned. I want your forgiveness, I want your love. I won't survive being cast out again."

"You won't be. I swear."

"Then stop me from being so afraid right now. Everything in my life is on the rocks and I'm just clinging to one thing and that's you, Billy—"

"Don't be afraid. I'm here for you, and I'm trying to fix things." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Okay, I'm finished. If I talk any more about feelings I'm going to have to surrender my Y chromosome."

She gave a tired giggle.

"Finally," he smiled in return. "I've spilled my guts and now I'm starving. Come on, there's a couple of fresh trout that need to be put in the oven."

"I can help—"

"Mac, you're great in the control booth, and in the sack, but not so much in the kitchen. So, tonight, I'm producing. But I'll let you be in my ear."

oooo

A light November rain was falling on Thursday morning when they returned to the Bronx Office of the City Clerk, so only a few photographers were on hand on the pavement outside.

"McAvoy! Over here!"

"Getting married today, Will?"

"Look this way!"

Lonny Church was two paces ahead of Will, running interference. Will had pasted a tight smile on his face and gave a quick wave to what he hoped were friendly photographers before wrapping his arm around Mac and pushing her into the building.

When they reached the designated antechamber, Charlie Skinner was there, squinting at his watch. He looked up as they entered, brightening immediately at the sight of Mackenzie. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I couldn't _not_ be here for this," he explained.

"I'm so glad, so very glad you are," she returned.

The marriage officiant, as it happened, was an old acquaintance of Will's from the D.A.'s office (which explained the judicial waiver to the 24 hour wait rule) and arrived promptly. After introductions and handshakes, he read the standard marriage service. Smiling, bride and groom promised the usual. Only plain platinum bands, hurriedly procured by Will's agent's assistant and delivered to Will's apartment that morning, were exchanged.

"You may kiss the bride." The judge paused while Will did so. "Congratulations. Now, we just need a few signatures."

Charlie rocked back on his feet, smiling broadly. He said something to Lonny, but it seemed to come out as a mumble and Lonny just nodded, assuming it was some pleasantry not worth asking to have repeated. Mackenzie signed first, then passed the pen to Will. Will signed then turned to Lonny. "Feel like witnessing this?"

Lonny grinned and signed.

"Charlie?" Will offered the pen to Charlie, who reached for it but dropped it from numb fingers. The younger man stooped to recover the pen and press it back into Charlie's hand.

Charlie frowned at the license for a few moments, before the judge, overbooked and needing to move on to the next appointment, pointed out the line for his signature. Charlie squinted again, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and moved the pen over the line. The pen again fell from his grasp and he put his hand out to Will.

"Congratulations, son. Take care of her."

The next day, Will would remember thinking that Charlie's handshake had seemed weak.

"Mac." Charlie hugged her. "It's nice to see things work out the way they were always supposed to. Be happy," he whispered. "What now?" he asked, pulling back.

"One day honeymoon," Will said, grabbing Mac's hand. "We'll be back in the office tomorrow morning."

"You just got married—take till noon." Charlie smirked at his own faux largesse. "Hang Chew's has proven impossible this week, because of the suit—so we're going to do a little thing tomorrow night after the show in the executive dining room. Let the staff blow off a little steam. Act as a little reception from your staff. If that's okay-?"

"Lovely," Mac murmured. "I want to see them all."

Will began to help Mackenzie on with her coat. "See you tomorrow, Charlie. Thanks for being here."

Lonny led the McAvoys out the door.

Charlie felt relief at their departure. His head had started pounding during the ceremony and now his vision had blurred to the point where he hadn't been able to find the signature line on the marriage license. He reached for his own coat, thrown over a chair, and stumbled, unable to maintain his balance.

_What the fuck?_

Then he collapsed.


	3. Chapter 3

Lonny pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Can't hear you, man, I'm going to have to step outside." He gestured to his friend and mimed, "Work, I've gotta take this."

Once on the sidewalk, away from the roar of the sports bar during Thursday night football, he began again. "This is Lonny Church."

"And this is Reese Lansing. I've been trying to reach McAvoy all damn day. His cell number keeps going to voice mail and there's no answer at his landline."

"He's not at his place. He's at The Four Seasons over on West 57th. You know he got married today, right?"

"The Four Seasons. Okay, okay." There was a pause as Lansing seemed to consider something. "Church, you might want to start heading to the Four Seasons."

"Hey, I'm off the clock." He checked his watch. "Anyway, it'll take me at least 30 minutes to get there. And I've had a couple of beers."

"Are you drunk?"

"Not even close."

"Then get going. I'm calling him now and he'll be waiting for you."

By the time Lonny pulled up to the front of the hotel, both McAvoys were waiting. Will stubbed out his smoke on the sidewalk and opened the door for Mac.

Lonny said nothing but waited expectantly.

"Back to the Bronx, Lonny. We're going to Montefiore Hospital on 150th."

Lonny took a minute to program the GPS, then pulled away from the curb. He looked in the rear view mirror.

Mac saw the unspoken question in his eyes. _What could interrupt a wedding night at one of the nicest hotels in the city_? "Charlie Skinner suffered a stroke today. At the clerk's office, evidently right after we left." She tightened her grasp on Will's hand.

Lonny remembered how Charlie had seemed to mumble earlier. "How's he doin'?"

Mac looked to Will whose eyes were caged and unreadable. "Don't know. Reese said it may have been an hour before anyone found him. They're running the tests now."

They drove in silence for the next twenty minutes.

Leona Lansing was in the waiting room, consulting with a surgical scrub-clad woman when Mac and Will arrived.

Leona waved them over. "This is Doctor Jessica Rains. She's the attending neurologist and was just telling us about the tests."

"Will McAvoy. How is he?" The first words Will had uttered in an hour.

shook his hand. "I recognize you. I watch when I can." She leaned over to shake Mac's hand.

"I'm Mackenzie. Call me Mac."

If Will realized he'd forgotten to introduce his new wife, it didn't register on his face.

"As I was saying to Mrs. Lansing, and as I've already told Mrs. Skinner, we've completed the preliminary neurological evaluation. Neither the ultrasound or the angiogram indicated evidence of cerebral hemorrhage. That's very hopeful; it means no ruptured aneurysm that would be very difficult to repair surgically."

"Will surgery be necessary?"

The doctor shook her head. "Surgery is never a good option for a cerebrovascular accident. We'll monitor the intracranial pressure and look for changes in the level of consciousness, blood pressure, blood sugar, and oxygenation."

"Is he—conscious?"

"No. He was unconscious when he was brought in, and we sedated him for the angiogram. The sedation will begin to wear off in a few hours and we'll do another evaluation at that time." She paused, giving them time to process the information. "Mrs. Skinner is with him now."

"Can I see him?" Will asked.

"I'm sorry, but it's best if there are no other visitors tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, after we've assessed his condition." She offered an encouraging smile. ""We'll look after him."

Following the doctor's departure, Leona put her hand on Will's forearm. "I'm taking Nancy home with me tonight. She needs to be nearer than Connecticut, but I can't stand the idea of her staying alone in whatever _pied a terre_ Charlie keeps in town." She rolled her eyes theatrically. "You're back tomorrow? That's good. The 23rd and 24th floors will need a _pater familias_."

Reese returned to the room and went immediately to Mac. "Effective immediately, and until further notice, you're acting director of the news division. I'll need you with me tomorrow when we do the taping with David Gregory."

Mac was taken aback at both pronouncements and Will's head turned sharply.

"Where? D.C.?"

"Yeah. Our jet will leave around noon from LaGuardia. Meet me in the AWM lobby at, say, ten-thirty."

The words seemed to be all stopped up on her tongue. "Are you certain—I mean, is this a good idea, having me on the show? You know, I was part of the decision-making process for Genoa—"

"—As was Charlie." Reese looked down at her. "I need someone who knows the specific hoops you jumped through to vet this story. That's you, McHale."

"McAvoy."

Reese turned. "What?"

"Her name. It's McAvoy. We got married today." It was the first string of consecutive sentences Will had uttered in hours.

"Congratulations," Reese returned with a shrug. "Anyway, Church told me."

Leona fixed her son with an evil look. "I'm sorry, Will. Mac—McMac. This is not the ideal honeymoon evening for you."

Just then, Nancy returned to the waiting room. A petite brunette, she seemed remarkably composed for the circumstances. She saw Will and smiled. "Will, I'm so glad to see you. Mackenzie—" she reached for Mac's hand. "Congratulations to you both. Charlie has been so happy for you."

"How is he?"

"He's sleeping. He looks peaceful. I don't think he's in any pain." She forced a smile. "Like the doctor said, we'll know more in the morning. Thanks for coming, but there's no point in staying. This isn't the place you should be tonight."

Will leaned to kiss her cheek. "We had to—"

Leona took Nancy by the elbow. "You need some sleep yourself. We'll get you back here early tomorrow morning." She smiled knowingly at Will and Mac, as she eased Nancy Skinner out the door.

Reese followed, pointing to his wristwatch. "Tomorrow morning, Mac."

On the way back to The Four Seasons, Mac watched Will. He was quiet, distant. She knew better than to assume he was merely pensive or sad about Charlie. She knew he was damming up his emotions, feeling like he had to be strong for her—Nancy—Charlie-Leona, even.

She also suspected his seeming impassivity was masking his anger. He had to be roiling with anger about Dantana and Genoa, about innocent people being dragged through the mud, about the continuing impact of the phony story they had been fed.

Mac understood that Charlie was the latest victim of Genoa. They had all been deceived by Dantana's lack of integrity, but Charlie had also been played as a patsy by that ONI guy, someone he imagined was a friend—at the least, a trusted source. He had agonized over green-lighting Genoa from the beginning, and when it turned to worms, he'd had to endure scathing editorials, jabs from far-less scrupled-but-holier-than-thou colleagues, political cheapshots, and the complete ruin of his code of ethics. In short, a fall from grace to abject professional humiliation.

Charlie's culpability matched her own. She knew exactly how he felt.

The same knot of paparazzi milled on the sidewalk outside 2 Hudson, but Lonny again took the Escalade down the ramp to the underground garage.

"McAvoy, you're in for the night, understand? I've got another commitment but someone will be here for you at 830 tomorrow morning. You hang tight until he gets here."

The gossip weeklies hit the stands early Friday morning and their snarky trash made its way to Friday morning news shows, as an attempt at lighthearted entry to the weekend. When she turned on the morning news, at 7:00, Mac immediately muted the sound. But she noticed that three minutes at the top of the hour were given to the revelations in the Dantana suit. There was a stock head-and-shoulders shot of Will, followed by several candids of the NewsNight staff under photographic assault outside the AWM building. The final shot was a photograph, emblazoned with TMZ, of her and Will exiting the clerk's office the day before. She could imagine the SoT, and the comments that would be offered by Tony Hart.

No mention was accorded Charlie Skinner. It seemed a slight but one for which she was grateful.

_No point in giving Dantana the satisfaction._

"You're going to the hospital?" she asked of Will.

"For a little while. Until Nancy or someone else comes. Someone should be there."

"I need to get to the office for a few minutes. Talk to Jim and Don, see what's on my desk. And—I suppose—see what's on Charlie's desk." She sighed heavily. "I didn't expect that Reese would do that."

_Even Reese has astonished._

"No one better qualified than you." He kissed her forehead. "But don't get used to it. Charlie will come roaring back, and I can't live without you in my ear."

"I'll probably miss you later, going to D.C. and all."

He pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to do this. But there's no one more capable." He pressed his lips to hers. "And—this is your attorney talking. Be careful on the Gregory show. He's fair but he'll ask tough questions. _Don't_ apologize for anything. And try to keep Reese reined in."

"Got it." She grabbed at her purse and folio. "I'll see you—"

"Wait, where are you going? You can't go out there alone."

"Will, we're going in different directions, so it isn't practical to go with you."

"I'll have Manny put you in a cab. I won't let you stand out on the sidewalk with that pack of jackals."

"You were the one who thought they only wanted photographs," she smiled archly.

"Let's say that Lonny finally got through to me." He took her in his arms. "Thanks for yesterday. Thanks for last night. Thanks for—getting to _yes_. You know." He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. "I owe you a honeymoon. In a couple of weeks, when Charlie's better and things settle down a little more."

She blinked and nodded simultaneously, in a gesture of understanding. "I'll see you tonight, Billy. Update me on what's going on. My love to Charlie."

Will was at the hospital before 9am and wasn't surprised to see Nancy already there.

"Any word?"

"Dr. Rains is checking him out now. She said I—we'll—be able to go back in a few minutes."

"Sophie-?"

"She's on her way, getting out of classes and exams. Packing her car. Whatever."

Dr. Rains entered the room, offering a smile as soon as she recognized them.

"He's awake and alert."

"Visitors are okay?" Will asked.

"For short periods. Don't stay too long and over-tax him." She looked from face to face. "Our preliminary evaluation indicates that he had a very mild stroke, with little lingering effects. This is perhaps a little miraculous considering the period of time before he was discovered and transported to the hospital. He's complaining of weakness on his right side, numbness in his right extremities. I'm not sure, yet, about his vision. You may notice a slight slurring or hesitation in his speech; the deficit in his vocabulary will probably come back with time, but he might need some speech rehabilitation. We'll be talking to you about rehabilitative therapies in the days to come." She consulted her clipboard once more then looked up, brightening. "Well, I'm sure he will welcome the company. Try to be upbeat and don't stay too long. Oh, and there might be an occasional emotional response. It's pretty common with stroke patients. Don't worry, that will probably moderate with time."

Will insisted Nancy have a fifteen minute head-start on visiting hours, so he went for a cup of coffee and took his time. When he finally ambled back, Nancy smiled and patted his hand. "He's in fine form. I'm going to step out for a little while and make a call."

"Sobriety becomes you," Will said, entering the dimly lit hospital room.

"S'over-rated," Charlie struggled to return. "My own, 'specially."

"Charlie—"

"Don't say it."

"What?—"

You're going to ask me how I feel, then you're going to tell me you're sorry."

"Yeah." Will was noticing the slight slurring of words the doctor had warned them about.

"I feel like shit. And there's no reason for you to be sorry."

"I'm sorry we ever heard of Operation Genoa. I'm sorry I didn't exercise my veto and—"

"Knock it off, Will. Quit being a pussy." Charlie sighed and closed his eyes. "How's Mac?"

"She's had a crazy 24 hours and she's worried as hell about you. You know that Reese took her with him today to D.C."

"That's probably a good call. She'll give us professional credibility, if Reese can keep her from _mea_- _culpa_-ing her way through the Gregory interview." He looked up at Will. "You're going in today?"

Will nodded.

"Good. Rally the troops."

"We'll save you a bourbon from the party tonight."

"You'd better save me more than one." His eyes closed again and Will felt that he should go.

"Charlie, I'd better run. The doctor didn't want me to stay long, and Nancy'll be back in a few minutes. Let these people take care of you. I'll check back later."

"Will—"

"Yeah?"

Charlie motioned him closer. "You never know how these things are going to go—"

Will wanted to ask, _what things, _as he leaned nearer.

"—so I wanted to mention—" His voice dropped to a soft whisper.

Will just stood there with his mouth working and nothing coming out.

Mac was used to seeing a panel show, so she was somewhat taken aback to see how tall David Gregory stood when not in his chair. They had never met before but he seemed friendly and anxious to quell any nervousness on her part.

Reese, of course, needed no quelling.

"Look, David, you know we're constrained by how we can discuss this. There's no gag order or anything, but our lawyers obviously don't want us to give away the case. So we aren't going to talk about any of the personal allegations in the lawsuit."

"Understand." Gregory nodded. "I just want to talk in generalities about the process by which you vetted this story, if, as you claim, it was largely the fault of a junior producer who knowingly altered raw interview footage."

"I'm not sure we can even go that far," Mackenzie worried.

"Well, General Stomtonovich has filed his own suit, so we stick to his allegations and try not to assign any other motives," Reese said.

Gregory consulted the yellow legal tablet he held and eyed Reese. "Your counsel knows you're here, so I have to assume you've been given specific instructions as to the sorts of comments you can offer. But you need to know before we even start that this is not going to be 15 exculpatory minutes for ACN. I'm not giving you a free pass. Some hard questions are going to have to be entertained."

"We're ready," Reese's mouth twisted. "C'mon, Mac. We can do this."

At the eleven o'clock meeting, Will kept his hands in his pockets and announced that Charlie was in good spirits, that Mac would be back later (albeit in a different capacity), and that for the time being, Jim would remain as acting EP of the show. Then he added, "I want to clear the air about the rumor that I fired Mac on election night."

All the faces looked up, some registering surprise (_they hadn't heard_) and some wary, wondering what justification would be offered. Maggie looked away, unable to meet either Jim's cool gaze or Will's evident discomfort at the other end of the table.

"Someone heard me fire Mackenzie on election night. It's true. I lost my temper and did something willfully and monumentally stupid. But I reversed myself and re-hired her. And I want you to know, if you don't already, that yesterday morning I signed her to an exclusive personal contract with absolutely no possibility of termination." No one seemed to get it so he held up his left hand, the platinum band on the ring finger.

The staff erupted in cheers and high fives. Will felt several claps to his back. Jim walked over to offer his hand. "Well, this was a long road, but I know she must be happy."

"You know—I think she is," Will returned with a smile of rare genuineness. "So, now we need to get on with this meeting or she'll kick my ass."

Later, after the pitches had been dispatched and a tentative rundown established, Will suddenly said, "Jim, I want a story about why the Navy is building an electronic data collection facility in the middle of the Utah desert—"

"Uh, sure. We'll get right on it, Will." He exchanged a nervous glance at Neal.

"I want it in A or B block Monday night."

"A block, Will? Monday? Are you sure?" Jim still felt tentative enough in his role as acting EP that he felt compelled to be diplomatic. "You know that no one at DoD wants to talk to us right now. Is there any… _urgency_… to this story?"

"Sure there is. An official at the Office of Naval Intelligence made it his business to leak false and misleading information to us… so I want to know precisely what his motives were."

"Will, we're not going to get into any kind of ethical dilemma here, are we? I mean, about compromising sources—"

"I'd say he's done all the compromising so far, but we'll scrutinize it before any names are mentioned," Will replied.

"In the interim, can you give me the guy's name? It might make things easier in tracing—"

"Pressman. Goes by Shep, but I'm not sure what that may be short for."

Neal's head bobbed. "We used to have a guy here with the same last name—"

"I know," Will said. "And right after this meeting, I want you to come to my office and talk to me about that."

Mac returned before show time, but only just. She came into control and Jim handed her a second headset.

"I'm back, Will, but Jim's still got the show."

He looked directly into the camera. "How'd it go?"

"I think I prefer this side of the camera," she laughed. "It was nerve-wracking, trying to tell the truth without legally tipping our hand."

"Reese?"

"You know, I think he rather enjoyed himself. He appeared to have been well-briefed by Rebecca. I just filled in a few details, our normal protcols, that sort of thing."

"Rolling in five," Herb announced, and the NewsNight music was cued.

"See you in an hour, Mac." He gave his papers a final tap. "Okay, Jim, let's go."

After the show, staff members began to arrive in the executive dining room. Leona had engaged Wayne to sit at the piano, affording a more elegant ambiance than Hang Chew's. Light hors d'oeuvres and snacks were available, and the tended bar was a welcome feature for staffers fatigued from an exceptionally grueling week.

_Election night—the revelations of Dantana's petition—the unfamiliar and unwelcome notoriety of tabloids—shoving and shouting from photographers and hecklers on the sidewalk outside the AWM building—Charlie Skinner, felled and missing._

The mood was subdued, but drinks helped. It was all about the camaraderie anyway.

Will nursed a scotch and looked on with wry amusement as Jim, Gary, Neal, and the control room staff fussed over Mac.

_Wendy reunited with her lost boys._

He felt a sharp jab to his shoulder. "Hey!"

Sloan glowered in front of him. "Anything you want to tell me, Will?"

"Sloan, things happened very quickly—"

"I can goddam tell." Suddenly, her eyes widened and she reached for his hand. "Let me see," she said, inspecting the wedding band.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Not on your life. But the good news is I've forgiven Mac."

"Hmmm, well, that _is_ good news. I guess."

She gave him another punch. "Hey, bro', next time I'd damned well be at the top of the invite list. If you get married again. Er—if you—you know—"

He smirked at her over the top of his drink. "Go on. I'm really enjoying this."

"You know what I mean," she warned.

Mac came over with two Cosmos, passing one to Sloan. Will slipped his arm around her.

"You see, she knows how to make amends." Sloan sipped. "Did you see we made the cover of _People_? Just the bottom right corner, where they usually put dead celebrities of little consequence, but still."

Mac sighed. "I saw Tony Hart this morning, then caught the Hoda and Kathy Lee show in the limo on the way to the airport. I'm hoping for a _casualty-less_ calamity to take us off the front page."

"We need to get to the rage phase."

"What's that?" Mac asked.

"Oh, something Don and I talked about once. After the humiliation comes the anger." Changing the subject, she offered, "I went to see Charlie. He seemed good. My aunt had a stroke and it really messed her up. But Charlie seems like he's coming back fine."

"Nancy?"

"I didn't see her. Their daughter had arrived and they went out to grab a bite. Mrs. Lansing was there, though."

Don and Elliot joined the party after their show ended. There was some good-natured teasing about the speed and secrecy of the marriage, during which Sloan managed another scowl at Will.

Once the staff got some food (_not tuna jerky_) and a few drinks in them, they began to shed their fatigue and the awkwardness that had afflicted them since the whirlwind return of Will and Mac. Jim took Mac aside and briefed her about the mutiny in the control room. After two Cosmos, Sloan very much appeared to be flirting with Don, and Neal was leading a loud defense of Julian Assange against Gary's sarcastic assessment. Charlie's absence weighed on Will, but, over his third drink, he began to think things might eventually be righted after all.

Charlie Skinner had another stroke early Saturday morning and died without regaining consciousness.

_I guess it's just us now._


End file.
